


The Bastard Daughter

by Cantatrice18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Illegitimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cygnus Black always knew his wife's third daughter was not his. But it is not until many years later that he realizes who her real father must be, a realization driven home by none other than Lucius Malfoy, who comes to ask for Narcissa's hand in marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bastard Daughter

Cygnus Black knew, of course, that his wife had been having an affair, even before the bastard child was born. How could he not, with the vulgar way she behaved in public, drooling over every passing man. He’d thought about killing her, especially when he saw the baby for the first time, but somehow he couldn’t make himself care enough to do it. What did it matter to him if she disgraced herself? The eldest daughters were both undeniably Blacks, with their thick dark hair and noble features. If this third had been a boy, perhaps he would have found it in him to care more. Instead it was a girl, pale and weak, hair the white-blonde of a veela but with none of the charm. He refused to even name the thing, except to insist that she not bear any of the celestial names that each true member of the Black family bore. His wife, perhaps relieved that her indecency had gone unpunished, quickly named the child “Narcissa” after the flowers that bloomed in the back garden. He found the choice oddly fitting – a common, dirty name for the tainted offspring of an unknown lover. He accepted the name without protest, then put the little whelp from his mind. Let her mother care for her as she chose, he would have nothing to do with a child that wasn’t his. 

How curious, then, twenty years later, when a stranger arrived at the door of the crumbling Black mansion. The wizard introduced himself as one “Lucius Malfoy”, and asked to speak with the head of the household concerning the youngest Black daughter. The foppish young gentleman with long blonde hair and a pointed face had no idea, it seemed, of how Cygnus despised the girl the world saw as his daughter, a Black descendant only in name. Yet as the young wizard spoke familiar tics became apparent in the way he moved, the way he held himself, traits Cygnus had seen in his own household. He considered the man more closely. This was Abraxas Malfoy’s only son, that at least he remembered from his time in society. Though his wife had died only the year before, her health for many years had not been good, and he himself had never cared for fancy dress balls or gentleman’s clubs. Abraxas Malfoy, the politician, the rake, almost as famous for his waist-length blonde hair and easy way with women as he was for his corruption and backroom dealing. A slow smile spread across Cygnus’s face as the young man presented his case and asked, nervously, for Narcissa’s hand in marriage. What a glorious trick of fate that would be, wouldn’t it? Sending the bad seed back to take root within her own family tree, infecting all the future generations of little Malfoys with the instability that comes from too much of one bloodline. And no one would ever know. Abraxas might suspect, upon seeing the pair together, but what could he do about it without risking his own reputation? As for the younger Malfoy, he was fool enough to fall for the half-breed girl in the first place. He would never understand, not even when his own children were born feeble and simple from inbreeding. Clutching the head of his gold-tipped cane, Cygnus began to laugh. Revenge was sweet, particularly when it came so suddenly and without warning. He assured the astonished young wizard that nothing would please him more than the union of their two illustrious houses. They clasped hands and the Malfoy heir departed, radiant with happiness, leaving Cygnus alone in the drafty mansion. 

He stood for some time, a cruel smile on his lips as he pondered. Only when his joints began to ache did he return to his study and call for some brandy. The wedding would be lavish, deserving of a Black bride, with all the right people invited. There must be no suspicion that Narcissa was anything but his true and acknowledged daughter. But when it came time to walk the girl to the altar, he would plead ill-health, and beg Abraxas to take his place. After all, escorting the bride to the altar is a father’s duty. And no one could be more of a father to Narcissa than Abraxas Malfoy.


End file.
